


there's dust upon the stairs, the mansion has the air of a tomb

by coatylbutter



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Avoxes (Hunger Games), Gen, uh idk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 05:49:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24658633
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coatylbutter/pseuds/coatylbutter
Summary: You aren't allowed to remember the first nine.
Relationships: no - Relationship
Comments: 12
Kudos: 60
Collections: victors' tower (stories from floor 6)





	there's dust upon the stairs, the mansion has the air of a tomb

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WreakingHavok](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WreakingHavok/gifts), [SeCrFiDr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeCrFiDr/gifts).



> This whole AU has given me lots of inspo, I'm writing more than I've written in months.  
> The title is a lyric from Sleepyhead by the scary jokes- my best friend has been hounding me to listen to their stuff and last night I finally listened to a few of their songs. Some of the songs gave me vibes of the Victors living life in the tower and realizing it isn't as good as they once thought it would be.

You weren't allowed to go into the depths of Floor 0. You weren’t allowed to remember the victors that lived there. To speak of them. They existed in everyone’s mind. They won the games, at some point or another. But you shouldn’t speak of them. They don’t exist in the Capitol’s carefully crafted narrative, meticulously buried under pages and pages in the wiki, names not even written in any textbooks. They were shameful and traitorous to the Capitol. 

Of course, the Districts furthest from the Capitol didn’t know this. They simply assumed their names had been buried away in the sands of time, rotted away like an old triptych, melted away like a half-finished effigy. They weren’t fond on remembering the games much anyways. You took the mandated time off to watch the games, then forget as fast as you can, move on with whatever monotonous life you lead. 

Which is why Carson should have explained everything better. Him and Travis were called down to record a podcast, common enough occurrence.

They had turned Floor 0 into a studio area. A multipurpose room. But that room couldn’t take up the whole floor. The bedrooms and kitchens and lounges and offices. They were boarded up, put behind closed doors that were labeled “Faculty only.” 

Travis had gone back for something after the recording, right before they were going to go up the elevator. A sweatshirt or hat or- it didn't matter. What mattered was that he was taking too long and the Peacekeepers were starting to get agitated. They wanted to usher them back up to Floor 6 and be done with the two. 

This was taking too long. Carson turned to the two Peacekeepers and hoped he had enough influence to get away with what he would try.

“I’m going to grab Travis for you guys, I’ll be back in a second.” He couldn’t tell what they were thinking, eyes shielded by heavy suits and masks. A second passed. Then two. Then ten. Then-

“Be quick.” Carson ignored the implicated ‘Or else’ and dashed off to find Travis. There weren't many places to look. The ballroom had Avoxes cleaning up. The bathroom was empty. The recording studios were locked and only Peacekeepers and Avoxes had the key.

When he made his way to the end of the hallway and saw the door with a “NO ENTRANCE BEYOND THIS POINT” was askew. He inhaled sharply and walked in there. Hopefully they wouldn’t turn him (or Travis) into an Avox. That was what he had to do. Find Travis, bring him back up, and make sure to inform him to absolutely never enter these rooms. 

He’d never been back here. He didn’t know what was back here either. But if it was restricted, they weren’t allowed back here at all. Still, he had to find Travis.  
Carson noted the floor was dusty. There was a clear set of footprints. Travis. He sighed and took a look around the room. It took a second for him to register what this was, but as soon as he did, his breath hitched. 

This was a Floor for the Victors.

Floor 0. They weren’t spoken of at all. You didn't talk about the first 9. He had thought they got rid of- they destroyed- they.

It was here. Parts of it. Covered in dust and cobwebs and aged away with time. This was a living room- or what was left of one, anyways. Drywall had cut the room in half, turning most of the floor into an open space for recording and parties. What wasn’t turned into a new room was in a state of disarray. The couches were slashed and had bullet holes in them. The floors had deep gouges in them that the dust neatly settled in. The TV was cracked. And, based on the glances into the corner, so were the cameras.

That was good. This floor hadn’t been touched in decades, even if the cameras were unbroken, he doubted they would still be powered. No evidence they had been in here. No rules broken. At least not to the Peacekeepers. 

Carson followed the footprints into a hallway. Half of the rooms had been turned into recording booths for podcasts and shows run by the Capitol. The nameplates for those had fallen onto the floor.

He didn’t stop to read them. But as he passed the rooms, left untouched for years, he couldn’t help but glance at the name plates.

Felix, Jenna, Tiffany, Ian, The Blevster (That one was carved over a normal name. He thinks it was Tyler, but he couldn’t really be sure).

Travis is standing at the end of the hallway, hunched over something. Carson calls to him

“Travis, where were you?” Travis jumped and spun around quickly. He’s clutching something, a necklace.

“We’ve gotta go, the Peace- what’s that?” Carson asks. Travis slowly walks over to him and shows him the necklace.

It was actually a locket. Huh. The pictures inside are faded, but he thinks he can make out the image of a man and... italian greyhounds? They were popular pets among high-class capitol folk, he had seen them during parties. It didn’t matter. They needed to get back before the Peacekeepers came looking for them. 

“C’mon. You- We aren’t allowed to be back here. Lets go.” Travis dropped the locket as Carson pulled him away and the two made their way back to the Peacekeepers. 

That night, as he went to relax in the pool room, to get some peace and quiet, he saw Travis was already there. He was sitting near the towel rack, reading through an old book.

“Travis?” Travis scrambled to hide the book, but all he achieved was knocking the towels onto his head from the rack. Carson sighed and went to sit beside his friend.

“What is this?” He said, seeing that there were actually multiple books next to him. Travis whispered, almost as if he was afraid that if he spoke too loud, the fragile books would crumble

“Books or letters or- something by the people from the first few victors. I found them when I- I didn’t know they were gone. I thought nobody talked about them because they were old.”

The books were old. And in really bad condition. Pages appeared to be ripped out and the covers were dog-eared. This was dangerous. 

“Floor 0 is a forbidden topic. These could get you arrested or turned into avoxes or-” Carson cut himself off before he could spiral. And before he could make Travis nervous. 

“Well we can’t just give them back. Then the Peacekeepers will know we were back there. Just, try to keep them hidden. Only read them in here where there are no cameras. I dont want you to- I want you to be safe.” Carson finished. Travis stared into his book, not really reading the words. Just. Staring. Then he said

“Sorry. I didn’t know. I’ll try to keep them hidden. I’ll keep them under my bed, and smuggle any I want to read in here using a hoodie or towel.” 

Carson patted his head and went to walk out of the pool- he only really went here to be alone, and Travis was here. He supposed his room was fine. But as he stood in the doorway, Carson turned and said

“Don’t stay up reading too late.”


End file.
